The New Guy
by ZombieJazz
Summary: The powers-that-be at One Police Plaza decide to bump Manhattan SVU up to six and get everyone paired off. It means a new face appears in the squad room - and causes some major adjustments for everyone, as the detectives work to establish new relationships in their evolving unit.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The New Guy**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Zach Brady has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The powers-that-be at One Police Plaza decide to bump Manhattan SVU up to six and get everyone paired off. It means a new face appears in the squad room - and causes some major adjustments for everyone, as the detectives work to establish new relationships in their evolving unit.**

Olivia was looking that her cell phone as she walked into the squad room. A report from the Medical Examiner's Office about a rape kit they had in had just popped into her inbox on her way upstairs. She was already looking over the results even before getting to her desk and waiting for her computer to boot up.

She noticed, though, how unusually quiet it seemed in the bullpen – especially for a Monday morning. There was usually chatter going on about people's weekends, about anything that got caught over their days off, about what needed to get done on cases in the coming week, about everyone's schedules – if anyone was going to be in court or off at some sort of training or conference. People were usually up from their desks – over at the coffee machine or talking to their colleagues or even over at their main little multimedia area briefly shooting the shit before getting down to business. There wasn't any of that white noise going on that morning, though. It actually seemed almost too quiet. They could probably drop a pin in there and someone could hear it.

She glanced up from her phone and took in the room. Everyone was there already – all sitting at their desks and all looking silently, though almost reluctantly, in the same direction … towards her desk. Fin seemed to notice her out of the corner of his eye and looked to her and almost gave this inaudible, little sigh before his eyes tracked back to where they were. So her eyes followed.

Standing at the desk across from hers was a man … really, she'd label him as a boy; he looked like he hadn't even started shaving yet. His dark hair was almost cut in a cop-appropriate style, though it was clear he'd been growing it out from a patrol officer's crop-cut and attempting to do something with the strands that were there – swishing and styling them in a way that even further highlighted how young he was. As if he wanted to accentuate his youth even further – rather than being dressed like any kind of detective, he looked more like some sort of hipster. He had on glasses with a black wide-rim on them. The sleeves of his slim-fitting light blue shirt were rolled up to his elbows, which left a brightly-coloured tattoo sleeving at least his right forearm clearly visible. He'd for foregone a belt and instead on thin black suspenders fastened onto his dark jeans. He apparently thought that was flood was coming and had the pants rolled up – though likely more to show off his military-style boots than to avoid rising waters. He didn't have a tie on – but Olivia wouldn't be surprised if he had a bowtie to pull out from somewhere and complete the look. Maybe a bloody newies cap too.

She'd literally stopped in her tracks to gawk at the new person in her space – in Elliot's old space. The desk that had been allowed to sit vacant for more than a year-and-a-half as everyone else was shuffled around and slotted into other available spaces. Even in an absence that long, this suddenly felt like the ultimate intrusion. Her ex-partner – a good, experienced cop – was having his old space being taken up by a man that looked like he'd barely exited adolescence. It was insult to injury in all the changes that had happened in the squad over the past … almost two years. Even more insulting – it didn't seem like Cragen had given anyone in the squad that this new face was arriving. He definitely hadn't mentioned anything to Olivia.

The man … kid … glanced up at her, likely sensing new eyes on him and then briefly scanned the rest of the detectives before wordlessly going back to unpacking a banker's box he had plopped on the desk. It looked overflowing with stuff – junk. Though, God knew what the hell it could be. A cop that young couldn't have that many files to truck around with him as he was moved between units. And bringing that many personal items into the bullpen? It just seemed ridiculous.

He looked like a sixth grader who'd suddenly got accelerated through middle school and landed in the eleventh grade at high school. The likely initial excitement was gone now that he was in the classroom and realized that he hadn't even hit puberty yet and all these people around him were a lot bigger, smarter and more intimidating than he might've expected. He was about to taking a whooping that he hadn't anticipated in thinking that he was some sort of smarty-pants. Maybe he was in junior high. But this wasn't junior high. This was the Big Leagues.

Olivia walked over to her desk – placing her coffee on it a little loudly and still looking at him even as she moved to slip off her coat.

He looked up at her again. "Hi," he offered, probably a little too softly. "Zachary Brady," he sort of gestured to himself in an introduction and then stuck out his hand.

She didn't take it. Even his name made him sound like an infant, she thought.

"Benson," she said – and nothing more, dropping her coat onto the back of her chair and moving straight for Cragen's office.

He looked up at her as she stepped inside and loudly closed his door and glared at him, pointing through the window. The young man had followed her movement and she dropped her hand as it was apparent he could see her pointing at him – as if he didn't already know she'd stormed into the office about him.

"What is that?" she demanded of Cragen. "Because that better not be what I think it is."

Cragen sighed and shrugged, giving a small shake of his head and looking at his desk before meeting her angry eyes.

"One P.P. wants us at six – all paired off. It's who they sent over. I didn't have a say in the matter."

"What is he? Twelve?" Benson demanded.

Cragen sighed and looked down to a file he had open on his desk. "Twenty-seven," he told her. "He'll be 28 in a few months, by the looks of it."

He tossed the personnel file across the desk at her and she snagged it up and looked at it. The picture included in the file made him look even younger, if that was possible. She started flipping through the available paperwork that her Captain was allowing her to see, which wasn't much. It was a barebones file he'd handed to her.

"He is NOT a detective at 27," she spat as she looked at what was there.

"Christmas bump," Cragen said flatly. "Meritorious appointment. He was a key player in the arrests on the Wellsley case in the summer."

Benson glanced up at him at that. "That string of homicides in Hell's Kitchen?"

Cragen nodded. "Yeah."

She flipped through the papers some more. "Still …" she said. "Has he even done his five?"

Cragen sighed. "No. He's still technically a rookie. But he's done his three, Liv. He could've done his exams – and he probably would've made them easily. I recall you having not yet reached your 30th birthday when you landed in here."

She glared at him at that. "I'd done my time. I wasn't that green," she looked out the window again. The guy was manipulating what looked like a Batman action figure and trying to get it to sit on top of his computer monitor. That just made her gape at Cragen even more. "Do you see that?" she demanded.

Cragen came closer and looked out the window and shrugged. "John has lots of toys and junk on his desk too. So do you."

"An action figure?!"

Cragen just shook his head at her. "He's who got sent up. We have to deal with it."

"Twenty-seven. Still a rookie. Is he rat squad?" she demanded to know.

"No," Cragen said flatly.

"Would you know if he was rat squad?"

"Yes," Cragen said.

But Olivia didn't think that was true. If they were keeping closer tabs on what was going on with SVU – especially after Cragen and Amaro's embroilment in the spring, they sure as hell wouldn't be publicizing it. It'd be undercover eyes on them. Collecting little tidbits of information about their work. And, really, the only situation where Olivia could think of knowing people who were handed their gold shields that young – or even pulled right of the academy – were people recruited by the IAB.

"If he's not IAB – who the hell is his family? Who are his connections? Who's his hook?" she asked even more sternly. She didn't like this. If it wasn't IAB – he knew someone and was being given a free ride. She wasn't sure which concept pissed her off more: being spied on or dealing with a lazy-ass easy-rider who wasn't going to be there for the right reasons.

"Olivia, he graduated at the top of his criminology class at Northeastern. He came out of the police academy with flying colours. He's been on P.O. for more than three years – almost four - he's been decorated, received commendations and he comes highly recommended."

"State senator? City counselor? Commissioner's neighbour?" she asked. "Who's his rabbi?"

Cragen ignored her question. "And, he volunteered to be here – just like everyone else."

"Because he wanted his gold shield – before his due," she mumbled.

"I don't think so," Cragen said with a headshake. "And it's technically only a silver shield for now. We've got 18 months to scare him away – or to find reason to send him packing."

"Here's one: We are not a babysitting service," Olivia spat at him.

He nodded. "That we are not. But everyone who comes through here has to start somewhere. All of you have had your first days, first weeks and first years here. And it wasn't too pretty for any of you. Yourself included."

"This unit has already paid our dues – we've taken on two new guys," she said with exasperation. "We've barely got them up to speed and they're dumping a fucking child on us?"

Cragen shrugged. "They want us at six – and they thought having someone younger on the squad may be beneficial for us."

She glared at him at that. "We've got Amanda. And Nick."

She knew that they were both in their 30s – that Nick was actually pushing 40, and that neither of them had come to them as green as the kid outside the door. But still – they were young. They were fresh faces and fresh eyes in the squad. They weren't completely jaded yet and they'd been there long enough they'd had their opportunity to runaway with their tail tucked between their legs, but hadn't. They'd be around for a while now. They didn't need to get someone else up to speed – especially a kid barely out of the academy.

"One P.P. thinks having a younger detective may be beneficial for us when we're dealing with all the social media crap and Internet with the kids. This guy knows it. He uses it. He's done courses in it at school – and training at College Point."

She gaped a bit more and rolled her eyes. "Isn't that what Computer Crimes and TARU are for? Why do we need a specific guy with us?"

"Might be good to have a younger face when we're dealing with the teenagers and university kids," Cragen offered as an alternative. "Someone for them to relate to."

"Oh … but no one else is going to take him seriously. He looks like he should be in high school. That's likely being generous. Can you imagine him having to deal with some of our victims? Their families? Perps in an interrogation room?" The annoyance in her voice was becoming more prominent. "Do you see what he is wearing?"

Cragen tilted his head and shrugged. "I'm going to talk to him about his attire – just like I did with Nick."

"And his tattoo?" she spat again.

"Elliot had visible tattoos too, Liv," Cragen said a bit more softly.

"NOT LIKE THAT," she spat again. "I thought all the recruits after 2007 couldn't have their ink visible?"

"In uniform," Cragen said. "He's not in uniform, Olivia. He's a detective now – and there was nothing deemed offensive about the depiction on his arm back when he was recruited and passed medical. If it becomes a problem – I'll talk to him about keeping his sleeves down."

She sighed and watched him out the window again. It looked like he was stacking some university textbooks and law books, along with some NYPD manuals, in between the metal bookends on the desk now. She was sure all of that reading material wouldn't be touched again until he was packing his box to get the hell out of there – hopefully sooner, rather than later.

"So you're putting him with Munch?" she asked in her outward gaze. John was the only one of them not paired off at the moment.

"No," Cragen said flatly again with a headshake and a gaze that had shifted to the floor.

She spun around and looked at him. "Oh, no," she said and shook her head hard. "No, no, no."

"Olivia …"

She held up her hand. "I already broke Nick in. I've done my duty. Nick and I are fine right now. Our closure rate is up. Fin's done his time with Amanda too. Let John have a turn. When's the last time he had to take on a newbie? Fucking Cassidy?"

"I don't think him and John will jive, Liv," Cragen said and met her eyes. "He's a soft-spoken kid."

She threw her hands up in the air. "Great. Just what we need. A soft-spoken detective in SVU? If his appearance wasn't going to be enough to surmount in getting anyone to take him seriously."

"You can be pretty soft-spoken with the victims when you want to be too, Olivia," her Captain said. "Maybe soft-spoken was the wrong word. He comes across as very … respectful."

She let out a hard exhale and looked at the ceiling. "Who are you going to partner with Nick?"

"John … for now," he told her.

She shook her head. "That won't be a good pairing. Why not put the new guy with Amanda? Let John and Fin partner back up. She likes all that computer and Internet crap anyways."

Cragen nodded. "I thought about that. But if their knowledge sets and skill sets turn out to be similar – I think it would be good to spread that around the unit."

"HE'S 27! What kind of knowledge or skill sets can he have?"

"He's an intelligent guy, Olivia – and hard working. Personable. He didn't just end up here," Cragen told her sternly. "Like it or not – he somehow earned it and someone thought he should be here."

He could tell she didn't believe that. That she'd be out there digging into who his family was and who his C.O. was and who his rabbi was – and trying to figure out just who the kid knew or blew to get his shield and into their squad room.

"I'm going to shop him around," Cragen said. "I'll try him with Rollins. But she's our youngest. I'm not sure she's ready yet to take on the mentor role for a young detective. I know you are. So HE IS starting out with you. Over the next few weeks – we'll shift everyone around and we'll see what works for the unit."

She sighed harder and looked at him. "Captain …" she started to protest again, but Fin tapped on the door and then opened it.

"Liv, you're slated as catching today, huh?"

She looked at him and rubbed at her eyebrow. "Ah, yeah," she allowed.

"We've got a call about a 261 up on the Upper West Side."

She sighed again and looked at the ground. "OK, yeah, I'll be right out."

Fin nodded and left the door open as he returned to his desk.

"Captain …" she started again. But he held up his hand to stop her.

"This was never up for discussion," he said. "Go … and take the kid. The sooner he gets his feet wet – the better."

She exhaled harder and shook her head at him but she knew it had reached the point that any further argument wasn't going to get her anywhere at the moment. Arguing and putting off getting to the scene would only agitate Cragen and make him hear her even less. So she sighed heavily and then returned to the bullpen, grabbing her coat off the back of her chair. The kid was eyeing her again but looked away as she glanced at him.

"Coming?" she almost barked at him.

His eyes shot back up at her at that. "Ah, yeah …" he stuttered and started to move, tripping over the now empty box that he'd placed on the floor next to his desk.

Olivia heard Rollins let out a bit of a snorted laugh at the young man's stumble and caught her eyes. But the younger female detective likely saw the glare there and looked back down to her work. It wasn't like she hadn't been bright-eyed and brushy-tailed in her first days on the job when Olivia had been stuck with her too.

"You might want a coat," Olivia said flatly as she collected her things and shoved them into her pockets, ignoring how much the kid was stumbling around as he tried to kick the box under the desk.

She knew he was nervous – but this wasn't raising her opinion on his abilities out on the street. She didn't much care that he'd work patrol and had street experience. Until she saw something out of him more than what she was seeing in the squad – she wasn't going to cut him much slack. So he better buck up and quick. SVU wasn't for the faint of heart. Harden up – or leave.

"Ah … yeah …" he mumbled again and grabbed at his brown leather jacket and moved to follow after her.

"And a notebook and pen … and your phone …. your badge and weapon," she added and started to walk away.

"Ah … yeah …" the kid stuttered again and she could hear him rustling around on his desk – and Rollins snort again. She was clearly amused by the kid's nerves and awkwardness. Olivia wasn't – and she wasn't feeling that impressed with Rollins at the moment either.

She glanced behind her and the kid was fumbling around with clipping his holster onto his pants' waist – another reason to get a fucking belt, she almost wanted to call at him. But she left it. He grabbed his badge that he had on a chain and flung it over his neck and started after her again.

He got over to where she was waiting rather impatiently in the doorway of the squad. She could see the rest of her colleagues still watching the show – like this kid was some sort of circus act and now she was the ringmaster.

"Ready?" she asked him bluntly.

He nodded somewhat eagerly but a little unsurely. "Yeah," he said.

She looked at him. Fuck. He was so young. She'd thought Rollins had been young when she'd ended up there at 31. Then Olivia had to remind herself that she hadn't even been that old when she volunteered to come over to SVU. But 27? The kid was barely out of college. Barely out of the academy. He may have seen some things on patrol – but SVU was different. This could make or break him. How ready for it could someone be at 27? But how ready could anyone ever be for this job?

"Breathe Brady," she told him pointedly.

He nodded again. "Yeah," he agreed.

"No – really breathe," she told him.

He looked at her for a moment and then exhaled. Even she felt like he'd been holding his breath forever as the air escaped his lungs. She could feel the nervous energy and jitters radiating off him. That's not what she wanted beside her at a crime scene or while talking to a rape victim. She hoped she wasn't going to be stuck with this kid very long.

"OK," she sighed. "Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: The New Guy**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Zach Brady has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The powers-that-be at One Police Plaza decide to bump Manhattan SVU up to six and get everyone paired off. It means a new face appears in the squad room - and causes some major adjustments for everyone, as the detectives work to establish new relationships in their evolving unit.**

She glanced over at the kid in the passenger seat of the squad car. He was being way too quiet. Though, she supposed it wasn't like she'd set herself up as a friendly person to talk to. She wasn't even sure she wanted to talk to him. Maybe it was better for both of them to let him sit there and hopefully get into some sort of zone so they could get through this scene and collect any statements with as little drama as possible. She didn't want to be tripping all over him while they were out there – or for him to be tripping all over himself like he had been in the squad room.

Still, she'd been a little surprised at how silent he'd been in their walk down to sign out a car and then actually since they'd gotten inside the vehicle. Rollins had been a chatty go-getter on her first day. Amaro had been a know-it-all. This kid seemed to be being a mouse.

She hadn't even given him the option to drive. Usually she didn't mind giving up the keys any chance she got. But the concept of letting him behind the wheel felt just too much like she'd end up looking like a driving instructor. She was already having to play mentor – school-teacher, babysitter – to this kid, completely unwontedly. She didn't want to add having to jam her foot on the passenger-side brakes to the list. Even though she knew he clearly had his licence and had steered a squad car around the city before. He just looked too baby-faced to really want to believe it. She thought it might actually get them pulled over by patrol to make sure everything was in order. She didn't have time for those kinds of fun-and-games.

"You done much investigative work?" she finally asked, even though she knew the answer.

"No. Not really ma'am," he said without even looking at her. His eyes were set somewhere out the window ahead of them.

"Did they have you do any time in an investigative unit?" she asked again, even though she again already knew the answer.

"No ma'am," he said flatly.

"Where'd you transfer from?" she asked instead, though she had gleaned that from the barebones file in Cragen's possession as well.

"The Three-Three," he said.

"Washington Heights? How'd you get involved with the Wellsley case then?"

He finally glanced at her at that – clearly measuring just how much she already knew about him at that point in deciding how to respond. But he only caught the corner of her eyes for a few moments, and her unchanged expression, before he turned his own attention back to looking out the window and the road ahead.

"He stalked his victims in J. Hood Wright," was the only answer he gave.

"And you figured that out?"

"Yes ma'am," he said.

"How'd you manage that?"

"Guess I did my job," he said and nothing more.

She glanced at him again and looked him up and down. He still wasn't looking at her.

"So dumb luck got you on the fast-track?" she asked a little harshly.

He gave his head a small shake. "I don't think it was dumb luck, ma'am."

"Who was your training officer?" she asked.

She wasn't going to go down that other path any more at the moment. She could collect her own information on what happen on the Wellsley case in other ways without trying to dig it out of him in his own words. She knew that he likely knew she'd be doing just that too.

"Kadama," he said flatly.

She glanced over at him again at that and looked at him hard. He didn't even flinch or act like he much cared she was staring. His eyes stayed on the traffic in front of them – likely where her eyes should've been too.

"They still let him take probies?"

He shook his head. "Nope. I was his last before Ito got slagged with him."

There was a complete lack of emotion in his voice when he said it. But it was clear they both knew what was being talked about. Ken Ito was a rookie barely five months onto the beat when he'd eaten his gun. Normally there wouldn't have been too much chatter around that beyond calling it was a bit of a tragedy but saying the kid hadn't been made for the job and wondering how he hadn't been phased out during recruitment or in the academy.

But Ito was different. He'd left a suicide note that had pointed fingers at his training officer as a source of his distress – along with other fiery comments about the NYPD and its treatment of rookies – at the academy and in their first years on the force. If leaving the letter hadn't been enough – it'd been sent to the media as well. It'd ultimately resulted in a rather significant inquiry. Someone's ass had to end up on a plate – and rightly or wrongly – it had been Ed Kadama who'd taken the brunt of it all.

"How'd that go?" she asked.

She'd heard things about Kadama. But everyone had anymore. It was hard to completely phase out the fact from the hearsay after things reached the rumour mill in the NYPD – especially in such a publicized case. Hard-ass. Saint. Good cop. Bad cop. Breaking in probies or breaking down probies. Shouldn't be on the force anymore. At huge asset to the force. It was mixed reviews. Though the final report of the Ito inquiry had painted Kadama rather indifferently – a veteran cop who'd never really moved through the ranks but who had years of experience working with rookies, some who'd gone on to bigger and better careers than him. It looked like Brady was likely one of them.

"He's a very angry man," Brady offered and then fell silent again.

She considered that for a moment. She wasn't sure that was the kind of response you wanted to hear about anyone's training officer. That was an answer that said it hadn't be positive but that Brady knew better than to say much more on the matter. There was a high likelihood that he'd actually been instructed to keep his mouth shut about Kadama – and about Ito, as well.

If Ito had ended up with the cop just after him, Brady likely knew him. They both would've been young rookies in the precinct, beyond them being able to share their beefs about their training officer. Ito likely looked to Brady for hints and tricks on how to make it through that period, if it had clearly been going so badly that he'd eventually taken his own life. It sort of made her want to look back into the Ito inquiry and see if there was any mention of Brady, though, there likely wouldn't have been. They'd keep those kinds of names private. She was sure the kid had likely been spoken to at some point, though, since he was the last surviving probie of the office.

But his comment also made her wonder what kind of training and experience the kid had even garnered in his first while on the job. If Kadama hadn't been offering much to the rookies – or putting them through a more hellish initiation than most – that could mean even bigger obstactles to surmount in dealing with this kid sitting beside her.

"Who'd they have you partnered with?"

She heard him release a small breath at that and out of the corner of her eye saw him roll his head on the back of the headrest, clearly in a bit of annoyance. He didn't like being interrogated. No cop did.

"Frank Yannowitz. But this is all in my file," he said with a bit more of an edge to his voice than she'd yet heard. In a way, though, it was good to hear it. From some of Cragen's comments she had been concerned that maybe the young detective didn't have an edge to him. That'd be a problem.

She eyed him as she came to a red at an intersection. He looked about was excited about being paired off with her for – hopefully just the day or the case, at most – as she did about being stuck with him. Though, she wasn't sure that anyone else in the squad would be all that pleased about having to deal with getting him up to speed either. It wasn't just getting him up to speed about how SVU worked. It wasn't even that it was getting him on to speed on how SVU worked and he was in his first detective gig. This was a rookie cop – who needed to learn how to be an investigative detective while working in SVU. That would mean a lot of extra legwork for the rest of them in getting him educated. It'd be faster for them all to just work the cases themselves. But she knew from experience with Amaro and Rollins last time that Cragen would have none of that. They'd be walking this kid through step-by-step. It was going to be a long 18 months – unless they could get rid of him before then.

"Have you done much work with rape victims?" she asked.

He allowed a small shrug at that. She didn't like that at all. Rape victims didn't get shrugs in her world. There was no place for indifference in SVU – especially on your first day on the job.

"Some. Responded to some calls on the beat," he said, "and in the training courses they had people in."

She almost had to snort at that. The SVU training courses gave you a reality check but they didn't give you the full reality. If that was on his list of work with rape victims and survivors – that was another reason for her to be concerned about him. He had even less experience than she'd initially imagined. She had sort of been hoping he'd have some list of rapes or abuse cases that he'd responded to or played some role in. He didn't. This was all brand new to him – expect what he'd seen and heard in training. That was never enough.

"Why'd you volunteer for SVU, Brady?"

He actually looked at her at that question and she briefly met his eyes before rolling forward with the green.

"With all-due-respect, ma'am, I don't much feel like talking about my life story unless you much feel like sharing yours."

She snorted at that but gave him no response. Again – she knew she could find out other ways, and he knew that too.

"We know anything else about what we're walking into besides it being a 261?" the kid asked after a couple blocks of silence.

Now she was the one to shrug. "That's what I've got. You can call in, if you want."

He seemed to take some comfort in having been assigned something to do – and leaned over to grab the radio, fiddling with it for a moment.

"This is SVU Mobile. We're 10-76 to the 261 on the Upper West Side. Can we can the 10-13 on that call?" Brady asked into the radio.

There was some static and then came the voice from dispatch: "That's an 80, SVU Mobile."

Brady made another small sound. "OK. Thanks. 10-4," he said and hung the radio back on the dash.

"That's fairly normal," Olivia commented at him and he allowed a small nod. Though, she got the sense he didn't feel too comfortable headed into this knowing nothing more than it was a rape. "They'll brief us when we arrive on scene," she tried to offer as some small bit of reassurance.

He nodded again. "Sure."

"Do us both a favour and keep your mouth shut when we get there," she said pointedly. "Just listen. Learn. And, keep out of the way. This isn't patrol."

He glanced at her. "Yes ma'am," he said flatly.

"And stop calling me ma'am," she added a little more harshly. "I'm not your C.O. – or your training officer. I'm not even your partner yet. Benson … or Olivia," she allowed after a moment of hesitation. She wasn't sure she wanted to be on a first name basis with this kid – or even put that option out there.

But he just nodded. "OK, sure."

She wondered if it would be possible to scare him away on his first day on the job – or his first case? That might be a new record. But she thought it might be for the best of SVU. They didn't have the time or resources to deal with training a detective this young. Training him would come at the cost of their victims – and she didn't think they could justify that either.

She'd be expressing as much to the Captain the next chance she got – which she assumed would be as soon as they got back from this call. She fully intended to be back into his voice to let him know how clueless and useless the kid had been on the scene – even though they hadn't even got there yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: The New Guy**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Zach Brady has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The powers-that-be at One Police Plaza decide to bump Manhattan SVU up to six and get everyone paired off. It means a new face appears in the squad room - and causes some major adjustments for everyone, as the detectives work to establish new relationships in their evolving unit.**

Zach shifted his elbows on his knees a bit and gazed at the parents of the teenaged vic a bit uncomfortably. He knew he was supposed to be collecting any pertinent information from them – but Benson had told him in no unsure way to just shut-up and let her take the lead too. So now he was mostly just trying to keep them in the living room while she was upstairs with the girl talking to her in her bedroom – away from her parents.

"I don't understand why we can't be with her," her mother said again.

Zach met her eyes. "It's just policy, ma'am. It's better to speak to the victims alone. She might share more with Detective Benson when her parents aren't right there listening. Why don't we go over what happened this morning again? Erin left for a run?"

"Yes," she mother agreed quickly. "She always goes out for a run before school. Every day."

Zach nodded. "And there was nothing abnormal about her routine at all this morning? Nothing different?"

Her mother shook her head. "No. She got up after us. She came down in her running clothes. She ate an apple in the kitchen. Talked and then she left. She is usually back within about 30 … 40 minutes."

"What did she talk about?"

The mother shrugged and rubbed at her face. "I don't know. I wasn't even really listening. Just school. A history assignment, I think."

He nodded. "And what time did she leave for her jog?"

"Six …"

But her mother didn't get the rest of the time out of her mouth. Her father stood up from his seat on the couch. "This is taking too long," he said. "She shouldn't be alone up there. She needs us."

Zach stood up too and put his hand out to stop the man's movement. "Please, sir, sit down. Detective Benson is taking good care of your daughter. I'm sure they'll be back down shortly."

The man knocked his hand out of his way. "That's my daughter!" he spat.

"Kyle!" his wife snapped at him.

Zach moved to block the man again – even though the guy was much larger than him – in height, muscles mass and weight. "Sir, I need you to take a seat, please."

The man just shook his head. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded. "The student ride-along? Get out of my way!"

Zach was used to hearing those kinds of comments. He knew he was young – and that his looks were even younger. He didn't have the bulk of the guys who came back from the army or the Marines and joined the force. He didn't see the need to put in endless hours in the gym when he wasn't on the job. He put in his time but he wasn't going after the Mr. Universe title. He had no desire to look like a meathead – and unless he started with the juice, he likely never would anyways, no matter how much metal he started pumping. Being pushed around by people bigger than him wasn't something new – and being told he was just a kid – not a man working towards his 30th birthday, was just something he'd come to accept.

"I'm Detective Zach Brady," he said again re-introducing himself. "I'm working your daughter's case with Detective Benson, and I need you to sit down, sir."

"Kyle, come sit down," his wife called. "Let the detective do his job."

"Detective?" he spat back at her. "They have a kid working Erin's case!"

"I assure you, sir," Zach tried. "Detective Benson is one of SVU's most senior detectives. Your daughter is in good hands."

"And what are you? Her tag-along?" he snapped at him again.

"Kyle!" his wife said and grabbed at his hand, pulling him back to the couch and down into his seat. "I'm sorry. This is just … so … stressful. And … you just look so young. You look like you can't be much older than our son."

Zach nodded at that and glanced around the room again. They didn't have many photos in it. He'd been scanning it before trying to collect more information about the family that lived in the house – to learn more about them and about the victim.

"How old is your son?" he asked.

The wife rubbed at her temple. "Ah, Derrick, is 20. He's a student up at Columbia."

Zach gave another small nod at that. "Does he live at home?"

"Yes," she said. "We haven't called him yet to tell him, though. He's going to be so upset – and he's got summer internship interviews this week."

"He's close with his sister?"

"They're practically inseparable," Kyle said flatly. "They have been since the day she was born."

Zach gave him a bit of a questioning look at that. He wasn't sure there would be many 20-year-old men being that inseparable from their barely 16-year-old sister – or if such a close relationship would've continued through any siblings' teens and early adulthood.

"Where is Derrick this morning?" he asked.

"Class," his mother answered. "He's in class nearly all-day on Monday. I just don't know what we're going to tell him when he gets home."

"Where was he when all this happened earlier this morning?"

"He'd already left for the day," she said again.

"Is that normal?" Zach asked. "Heading into campus before it's even 7 a.m.?"

"What are you implying?" his father spat at him.

Zach shook his head. "Nothing, sir. I'm just trying to understand everyone's schedule in the house."

Kyle's wife reached out and rubbed at his bicep, clearly trying to calm him down.

"Derrick and Erin usually go out for jogs in the mornings. But not on Mondays. Derrick is on the track and field team. The team trains on Monday mornings in the winter."

"So is Monday the only day of the week that Erin jogs alone in the mornings?"

Her mother shrugged. "Generally, yes."

He nodded. "So what time did he leave?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. He always leaves before any of us are up. Around 5 a.m., I think."

"And he doesn't come back to the house after his training?"

"No," his father said sternly. "He showers and changes at school – and goes to class."

Zach nodded again and looked at the floor for a moment, thinking about that. But there was a sound at the back of the house and a young man appeared from in the kitchen and dining room area, having clearly come in from the garden.

The two parents looked over the couch and gazed at him – but his eyes had landed directly on Zach.

"Oh, Derrick," his mother sputtered and stood up moving towards him. "What are you doing home? Something's happened … This is Detective Brady …"

"You're a cop?" the kid asked.

Zach stood. "Yeah. Something happened to your sister this morning. Maybe you can come sit down and tell me a bit more about where you've been this morning?"

"Where I've been?" the kid asked.

Zach nodded. "Yeah. We're just trying to get an understanding of what everyone's schedule was this morning. Where everyone was. If there was anything out of the ordinary in the routines."

"We're?"

"Another detective is upstairs with Erin," his mother filled in for him.

"And we've got some patrol officers out front," Zach said. "You came in through the back?"

Derrick continued looking at him from in the doorway, making no move to come and sit on the couch like he'd been asked. It became too silent in the room and Zach watched the muscles in the kid's jaw tense and his body tense as well. Then without a word he was off like a shot back the way he'd come.

Zach looked at him for a split second and then started to move.

"Benson," he hollered. "We've got a runner."

He got out the patio door just in time to see the kid clambering up-and-over the back wall – his mother shrieking 'Derrick, what are you doing?! Where are you going?!' from behind him.

"Fuck," he muttered and looked around and then hopped up onto their patio table and jumped up and at the wall, grabbing the top and pulling himself over and dropping down to the ground looking both ways and spotting the kid heading west towards the river.

He pulled the walkie-talkie out from off his belt and started chasing after the kid, just as he heard Benson over on the other side of the wall, cursing at its height and lack of exit too. "Is there a gate?" she was yelling at the parents.

"IN PURSUIT!" he called and started off down the street, trying to catch up with this track runner that also had a good amount of height – and hence leg length – on him, in addition to his conditioning and training. He grabbed his glasses off his face and stuck them into the collar of his shirt – ending the bouncing on his face and in his line of sight.

"This is Detective Brady, SVU. In pursuit of a possible suspect – male, white, 20-years-old – headed west on 94th – getting towards the subway, but maybe bound for the park or Riverside Drive," he sputtered into the radio, trying to keep the kid in his sights.

"Derrick Yates!" he called out at him. "Stop! Police!"

The kid didn't stop but did dodge out into traffic, losing some time as he danced between cars.

"Fuck," Zach muttered again, pulling his badge and jumping in front of the same traffic. Mashing his hands on the hood of a cab that almost hit him. "COM'ON!" he yelled at the cabbie. "POLICE! Get out of my way!"

The kid came to some scaffolding around a house that was going through some renovations and went to try to climb up it but lost his footing against the damp and icy metal in the early morning light. He slipped, giving Zach the chance to close the gap a bit more, before he regained his footing and tried again.

Reaching him, Zach grabbed at the kid's foot. "What are you doing Derrick?" he said. "Why are you running?"

"Get the hell away from me," Derrick yelled down at him and kicked his foot, catching the detective in the mouth, busting open his lip and knocking his teeth against his tongue as he worked at calming his breathing and the adrenaline pumping through him. Zach instantly felt the rush of blood and the taste of iron fill his mouth.

"You just assaulted a police officer," he said and at that grabbed further up the kids legs and yanked him harder. The kid's feet came off the scaffolding and hung there as he tried to pull himself back up.

Zach grabbed onto his belt. "Let go, Derrick," he demanded. "You're under arrest for assaulting an officer."

"It was an accident," the kid cried and tried firm up his grip but ended up losing it in his movement and Zach pulled him forcibly to the ground. Derrick staged and stumbled as he hit the pavement, though he crumbled under his own weight a bit, buckling his knees, he didn't hit the ground and continued to struggle in the detective's grip – but Zach kept a firm hold on the back of his coat.

"You should've thought of that before you kicked me in the face," he said and pushed him against the wall, grabbing his one arm and pulling it behind his back in the process. "Put your other hand behind your back," he ordered and reached on his belt for his cuffs, suddenly realizing he didn't have his usual patrol belt on anymore and his cuffs weren't there. "Fuck," he muttered again.

"Please," Derrick whined against the wall. "It's a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding? Why were you running Derrick?" Zach asked and looked behind him trying to find Benson or a patrol officer catching up.

"I just, I just …"

Zach pushed him against the wall again. "Derrick Yates, you are under arrest for assaulting a police officer. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you …"

The young detective kept glancing around as he continued reciting the kid's rights.

"Owww, you're really hurting my wrist," the kid whined again.

He pulled his arm up a bit more at that. "Shut up," he demanded. "Do you understand these rights as they've been read to you?"

"Ow, ow, ow," Derrick whined and Zach released some of the pressure.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND YOUR RIGHTS?" Zach demanded again.

"Yeees," Derrick whined out.

Zach saw Benson coming. "I don't have cuffs," he called out and he could see her shake her head and roll her eyes even from where she was – but she more quickly closed the gap.

"Get out of the way," she said in a clearly annoyed voice as she reached them, grabbing Derrick's wrist and snapping her own cuffs around him. She looked at Brady. "What happened?"

"He kicked me in the fucking face," Zach replied and finally with free hands, worked at dabbing at his split-open lip and spitting out some of the blood in his mouth onto the ground. "I think the asshole chipped one of my teeth."

"Did you read him his rights?" Benson demanded.

Brady glared at her. "Yeah," he spat.

"Did he say something – or are you arresting him for assault?"

"Assault. But he bolted as soon as I asked him where he was this morning," Brady said.

She pulled the kid off the wall and looked at him. "Why were you running?"

"Where are my parents?" Derrick demanded.

"At home where you fucking left them," Zach spat at him and then spit more blood onto the ground. He thought he'd likely split open his tongue bad too. He could feel it swelling already and the blood was just continuing to fill his mouth.

"Go see medical," Benson said to him harshly. "I'll take him over to the squad car."

"I'm fine," Brady said.

"Go to the bus and see the medics," she ordered again and started pushing Derrick down the street.

Zach let out an annoyed breath and watched her take his collar away. "We've got a possible suspect in custody," Benson was saying into her own radio. "Currently under arrest for assault of an officer."

"Yeah, you're welcome," Zach said quietly. "Glad I could help out. Awesome first day." He spit another mouthful of blood onto the ground and started trudging back towards the vic's house and the waiting patrol cars and the ambulance.

"Fuck," he muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: The New Guy**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Zach Brady has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The powers-that-be at One Police Plaza decide to bump Manhattan SVU up to six and get everyone paired off. It means a new face appears in the squad room - and causes some major adjustments for everyone, as the detectives work to establish new relationships in their evolving unit.**

"Whoa, Liv," Fin said, looking up from his desk as they came back into the squad. "Did you beat the living shit out of him already? I thought you'd give him a week at least."

Olivia shook her head as she made her way back to her desk, with Brady trudging behind her like some sort of wounded animal. She thought likely his ego was hurting more than the rest of him.

"Doogie Howser went and go kicked in the face by a suspect," she said, as Brady visibly rolled his eyes at her and shucked off his coat to flop at his desk.

In the time it had taken to get the vic to the hospital and through her rape kit – he'd gotten to go and sit in emerg to have a numbing needle, followed by three stitches put in his tongue – along with some patching to his severely split lip. If that wasn't enough, a clear yellowy-green bruise was emerging on the corner of his mouth and wrapping around his jaw. He looked like he'd been in a bar fight. But his mouth was still frozen enough that he wasn't able to say much yet that didn't come out like he was eating cotton balls and dripping drool. Not that he likely would've said much anyway. He didn't come across as a kid of a lot of words.

"Oh, are we going with Doogie Howser?" Fin asked. "Cuz I was thinking Joe Hardy."

"Nah, Special Agent Cody Banks," Rollins interjected.

"Ha, ha," Brady mumbled. "Ize herd iz all befloor," he managed to mutter out around his numbed tongue.

"Hey, Inspector Mumbles," Munch called as he re-entered the squad, having just heard the end of the conversation. "We've got your suspect on ice in interrogation room three."

Brady moved to get back up but Olivia stood. "You can't talk to him like that. Sit down."

Brady glared at her. "Hez my callare," he spat – and also drooled. "Iz the one ho teched to himz. Iz the one he icked."

Rollins looked at him from across the split between them and started laughing at his protests. He shot her a look.

She just laughed harder and looked away. "Sorry," she said. "Duh yuz hearz yourz-shelf though?"

"Hen giz me a bitz intiz the fee-wheeze comz out," he demanded.

"Clock is ticking kid," John said and looked at Liv. "You want a hand?"

She nodded and stood from her desk, glancing at Brady. "Do the paperwork. You've got to fill out a medical incident form too."

Zach shook his head and looked down at his desk annoyed – loudly pulling open the drawers and ruffling around looking for some of the standardized forms.

"Hez my callare," he muttered again more quietly as Liv and John headed out and down the hall to the interrogation room.

"Boo-hoo, kid," Fin said and gave him stern eyes. "Keep up the whining and he'll be your last here too."

Brady met his eyes angrily for a moment – a bit like a spoiled teen – but then seemed to realize the immaturity in the staring match and broke away.

Rollins chuckled again and covered her mouth a bit and looked back to her work – just as Zach glared at her now.

"WHAD?" he demanded.

She shook her head. "Nothing," she said and then shrugged. "I thought I had a bad first day with Benson - and SVU."

Zach just rolled his eyes, slamming the one drawer and yanking over the next.

"The forms are over there," Rollins told him and pointed across the squad to a filing cabinet.

He glared at her again but got up from his desk and trudged over. "Tankz," he muttered.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: The New Guy**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Zach Brady has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The powers-that-be at One Police Plaza decide to bump Manhattan SVU up to six and get everyone paired off. It means a new face appears in the squad room - and causes some major adjustments for everyone, as the detectives work to establish new relationships in their evolving unit.**

Rollins watched as Brady pulled out his ID out of the inside pocket of his jacket and held it up at the bartender.

"You want my licence too?" he asked flatly, like he was very used to being carded in bars. Rollins could only imagine the embarrassment the guy had endured with having to pull out his identification or licence while he was out for drinks with other cops on the force. That was the sort of thing that you'd get more than a small ribbing for. It'd become a favourite joke among some cops.

Paul looked at her, though, not the younger detective. "The NYPD recruiting kids right out of the schools' safety patrols these days?" he quipped.

She gave him a smile but shook her head. "Geez, Pauly, the kid's taken enough flak for his first day. He needs a drink."

The bartender nodded at him. "Whatcha want, kid?" he asked.

"Sam Adams," Brady said.

Paul just nodded and moved to get them their drinks. Brady put his elbows on the bar and plucked a peanut from the one dish sitting there, working at cracking it open with his fingers.

"Sam Adams? Seriously?" Rollins said and gave him another look.

He shrugged and looked at her. "What's wrong with that?"

She snorted and shook her head. "Nuttin'. Just an interesting choice. Lucky they've got that here." She watched him as he got the nut out of the shell and shucked the red skin off it. "Thought ya said you'd be eating soup for a while," she commented.

He glanced at her again with a realization setting in his face. He clearly hadn't even been thinking about what he was doing. He'd just been doing something to avoid talking and to try to make the situation more comfortable. He still had a lot of tells. His body language wasn't that great yet. He wouldn't fly too well in an interrogation room, Rollins observed. He wasn't anywhere near ready to be flying solo ever. He probably hadn't even gotten in all his courses yet. The Cap would be shuttling him off to training here-and-there over the coming months. It'd cause eyes in the squad to roll even more and the little comments like that day to continue to emerge. Zach tossed the nut along with the shell away, though, and settled his hands back on the bar – gazing at them a little uncomfortably.

"How's the mouth feeling anyways?" Rollins inquired.

The young detective shrugged. "Like I got kicked in the face and have stitches in my tongue," he said flatly.

"Sounds shitty," she said.

He snorted and shot her a look. "Yea. Pretty much."

Paul smacked their bottles on the bar in front of them. "There you go, detectives. Kid's first day?"

Brady met his eyes and gave him a small nod. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"This round's on the house," Paul said and disappeared back down the bar to some of other patrons. "Got a newbie down there," they heard him say. It was likely an encouragement to get them to buy him another round – but not without taking their own opportunity for some ribbing.

Zach had had about enough of the ribbing for the day. So he grabbed at his bottle and took a long swig from it, leaning against the bar – making sure his back was to the cops who'd just been informed of his presence. He took a look around that particular cop dive. He'd seen his share. This one looked a bit swankier than what he was used to further uptown. But a cop dive is a cop dive no matter how you cut it. A bunch of folks just trying to wash away the crap of the day whether by drinking themselves silly or telling glorified stories that made the bullshit they dealt with day-in and day-out sound that much more spectacular than it actually was.

Amanda nodded over to the billiards table. "You want to play a game?" she asked.

Zach eyed it for a moment – maybe a little longingly. It'd been a while since he'd gotten in a game. But he wasn't looking for that much bonding that night. He was feeling a bit like shit and he also thought he should get back to the squad. He shouldn't be out chewing the fat with some female officer.

"Nah," he said and took another swig. "I should get back after this one."

She snorted at him. "The Cap told you to leave. You're off-duty. You show up back there and he'll just send ya home again. Take it," she told him. "Trust me – there will be lots of nights you won't get to see your bed. First day – go home and get some sack time. Don't beat yourself up about it."

Zach glanced at her but didn't say anything.

Rollins had felt for him. She thought it should've been clear to the whole squad that the kid had had a crappy first day. Not that it was their job to pat him on the head and tell him that it was all good. But they all had certainly done their best to make sure it wasn't any easier for him. By the end of shift, she'd been feeling a little bad for him – and after Cragen had barked at the new detective to go home. She'd followed him to the elevators and asked if he wanted to grab a drink. She had seen the reluctance in him. She'd actually thought he was going to say no. But maybe he'd thought if he didn't put in the effort to make the connections early, he'd be fucked even more in the long run.

"You wanna grab a booth then?" she offered.

He shrugged. "Sure. Whatever," he said and followed after to her as she found an empty space for them and slide in. He took the opposite side and sat down, focusing his attention on his bottle and picking at the label.

She watched him silently for a bit. She could tell he felt uncomfortable spending time with her. She wasn't sure how comfortable she felt spending time with him either. He seemed to be a bit of a pariah in the squad room at the moment – and who knew how long that phase would last. Not to mention, she really felt like she was sitting with a minor in the bar. The guy looked so young. Benson had let slip that he was 27 – but he sure didn't look no 27.

He clearly hadn't been on the job long enough for it all to set into his face yet. There weren't the bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep – both from the job and from what they saw on the job. There was still some brightness to his eyes – from not having spent years working with pervs and rapists, from not yet having seen the things SVU detectives saw. His skin was still smooth and not creased from the frowns and sadness and tears they hid from each other but shed in private as they grappled to disconnect themselves from the cases they worked and just do their jobs. Rollins wondered how long it would be before the job started to show on the kid's face. She knew it had caught up to her quicker than she'd expected when she'd first started in sex crimes.

"You know what they say about picking at bottle labels, right?" she commented off-handedly after she'd taken another swig of her own drink.

He glanced up at her and stilled his hands – giving her a small glare. They likely both knew that it was sort of uncouth to be making any sort of sexual frustration jokes or innuendo with the line of work they were in. But sometimes you needed to say something just to break the ice – and he sure wasn't doing any talking. It wasn't much worth spending time with him and trying to be friendly – at the risk of making herself a bit of a pariah in the squad again too – if he wasn't going to at least speak. She didn't want to watch him pick at the glue and paper on the glass of his bottle.

"So whatcha go by?" she asked. "Brady? Zachary? Zach? What?"

He shrugged. "Zach's fine."

She nodded. "I know what it's like, ya know," she offered. "I got detective when I was 26 back home. I took all the same sort of flak. Don't take it personally. Give it like six months and everyone will forget your age after you've got a few cases under your belt. They'll only flog ya about it when they need something – help with their phone or some new computer program or new piece of technology. Some television or music crap they don't know about that comes up on a case. You'll still be the new guy and the rookie but they won't care how old ya are anymore."

Zach nodded. "Yea. I know," he said quietly and took another drink of his beer.

"Don't worry 'bout Benson, either," Rollins tried. "She hates all new people when they start. She's just been around too long. The unit's been through a lot the past couple years. She's got trust issues. She'll get over it after she gets to know you."

Zach snorted at that and gave her a look. "Yeah. Bad-Ass Benson, right?"

Rollins gave him a smile but shook her head. "Don't let her hear you saying that – or your face is gonna look worse than it already does."

Zach just looked down at that and gave a small shake to his head. "I don't know how much she'll have to get to know me anyway," he mumbled.

Rollins gave another small nod. "Yea. The Cap told us that you're gonna be on all our dance cards over the next while."

He shrugged. "Yea. Guess you're all pretty excited about that."

"Ya know … it is what it is," Rollins offered.

"Splitting up other partnerships to add in me?" Zach said and met her eyes briefly. "That will go over well."

"We've been shuffling around a lot lately anyway," she offered. "When me and Nick came on – the Cap shopped us around too. I started out with Benson. Nick with Fin. We ended up with a switch somewhere in there. The Cap will figure out how everyone jives."

Zach shook his head. "Yea," he said, not sounding that convinced at all. He actually sounded more like he was dreading the next few weeks of having to be initiated by each and every one of them. Rollins thought he had a right to be. Some of the guys would put him through a harder wringer than Benson, she imagined. She couldn't see Nick taking to him that well and Fin took some getting used to. And even hearing stories from Fin about working with John, she still couldn't much imagine ever having to work with the guy.

"The squad's just been through a lot of shit lately," she tried.

Brady nodded. "Yea. I know. It's not like people are lining up to get in with you guys. If people didn't want in with the panty police before – you definitely made it seem like even less of an option there this year. You're a bit of a shit-storm."

Amanda offered him a small snort at that and shook her head, rotating her bottle between her hands. "Yea, it's been quite the last seven months or so. You know, it kinda felt like we were just all settling into the new reality – and you're like this other curve ball they've thrown us."

Zach looked up at the ceiling for a second at that before meeting her eyes. "Awesome," he allowed and shook his head.

"They're good people," she assured him. "Just give 'em some time to get used to you. Do your work. Don't get in anyone's way. Don't screw up too bad. You'll be OK."

He nodded and took another swig so he didn't have to comment.

"You from here?" Rollins asked.

Zach nodded again. "Yea. More or less. Alphabet City. Went away for school. Boston. Came back."

"That why you're drinking Sam Adams?"

He shrugged. "Guess. Where in the South you from?"

"Georgia," she said. "Was with Atlanta sex crimes before coming up here."

"How long you been Manhattan SVU?"

"'Bout 20 months now. You didn't do much research into the folks in the squad, huh?"

Zach looked at her at that and took another slow drink. "People come and go. What's the point? It's the work that matters."

She shrugged. "OK. You know they're all going to be looking into you?"

"Yep," he said flatly, "and so will you."

She nodded. "Yea. So who are ya Zach Brady?"

"Just some New York kid that went and became a NYPD detective," he said and finished up his bottle and put it back on the table – and looked at her, clearly indicating he was done and ready to go.

"And went and joined in on sex crimes? There has to be more to it all than that," she said.

He shrugged. "Does there?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: The New Guy**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Zach Brady has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The powers-that-be at One Police Plaza decide to bump Manhattan SVU up to six and get everyone paired off. It means a new face appears in the squad room - and causes some major adjustments for everyone, as the detectives work to establish new relationships in their evolving unit.**

Olivia walked towards the coffee cart on the street that several uniformed officers were standing around. She pulled her jacket away from her waist to provide a brief flash of her badge.

"Yannowitz?" she asked as she approached them.

Some of the officers looked up and watched her but then rather quickly moved away, leaving a lone officer standing there to finish fixing his coffee and to grab at a soggy-looking prepackaged sandwich from the attendant.

"Who's asking?" the man asked, giving her a small glance and a quick once-over.

"Olivia Benson," she said. "Manhattan Special Victims."

He gave her a small nod at that and shoved his sandwich into his pocket, before picking up his coffee and starting to walk down the street, back in the general direction of his precinct.

"You here about Zach?" he asked as she caught up and began to stride in-step with him.

"Yeah," she allowed.

"How's he doing?" Yannowitz asked.

Olivia gave a small shrug. "He survived his first week with us," she allowed.

The officer nodded. "That's good," he said and stopped to examine her some more, taking a small slow sip from his coffee. "He's a good kid."

She lifted his sunglasses up off her face to make eye contact with him and shoved her hands into the pockets of her winter jacket. "How about a good cop?"

Yannowitz shrugged. "He will be."

"Will be?" She asked. "You don't usually make detective when you're still trying to be a good cop."

Yannowitz gave her a bit of a snort at that. "Oh, com'on – that kid was never just going to be a cop," he said.

Benson gave him a questioning look at that.

"You don't know?" Yannowitz asked and shook his head.

"What should I know, officer?"

Yannowitz shook his head again and let out a sigh. "Detective – the feds tried to recruit that kid out of his junior year at college. Zach said no. So they tried again when he graduated. The kid still wasn't interested. Wanted to come back to the city and get on with the NYPD. FBI left him alone for a bit – but after Wellsley this summer, they were back at him. That's when the captain got on the horn with the brass and told them if we wanted to keep this kid – better make a move now."

"Why'd the FBI want him?" she asked.

Yannowitz shrugged. "The kid has just got a spidey-sense about him at crime scenes. Lizard brain or something. He's able to suss-out a room pretty quick and pretty good. It's a talent."

She rubbed at her eyebrow at that. "That's how he got involved with Wellsley?"

The officer shrugged. "Ahh, you don't need to talk to me about that," he said rather dismissively. "You can read about that in the files – or talk to some of the lead investigators, if you want to know about his involvement."

She looked at the man and crossed her arms. "Why'd he stay with the NYPD if the FBI wanted him so badly?"

The officer shrugged again. "Guess he's a New Yorker through and through."

She snorted at that – and looked at the ground slightly annoyed. She could tell from just his tone that there was far more too it than that – but the man wasn't going to share the full story or the kid's logic with her.

She'd known it would be a crapshoot with his former partner anyways. She hadn't really expected him to hand her much. It would've depended on what kind of relationship they had. If the kid had annoyed the hell out of him or left the man having to pull more than his weight – if he was pissed at a young guy climbing the ladder before him after he'd put years on the job – he might spill. But if he had a soft spot for the kid, had been a mentor, or maybe had even seen some of a son he had at home in the young man – he might be protective of her coming and snooping into his background. She knew Elliot would've had her back in a situation like this – and her his. But she still didn't like having such a young unknown in their unit.

The work they did was too serious. Their victims were already hurting enough. It was too challenging to get some of the convictions as it was. They didn't need an inexperienced boy in there – no matter what Cragen said or what One P.P. had to say on the manner. If Brady couldn't keep up – he needed to get out. And, so far, she hadn't been able to get much of a read on him either way.

Brady did the work and seemed to be trying – and was a quick student in a lot of ways. But she didn't get a real sense of drive or passion from him yet. Not that they'd let him near any of the more complicated cases. Even the captain was being sure to keep the kid on a tight leash for the moment – and likely would until he settled on a partner for Brady and maybe even until the kid finished up some of his detective training courses. He still had a lot to learn before she'd consider him being even a quarter of the way up to speed.

"They got you partnered with him?" Yannowitz asked.

She scuffed at the ground before meeting his eyes. "Not officially yet," she allowed. "Our Captain's shopping him around the unit to see where he's going to fit. But they've got him with me for the moment."

"He's a good kid," Yannowitz stressed again.

"I'm more interested in him being a good cop – and a good detective – than whether or not he's a good kid," she said again, a bit more sternly.

The cop sighed. "He's good with the street kids," he offered. "The baby pros. The corner hustlers. He's going to be able to bring something to you guys over there. Just … give him some time. He's smart. A quick study. He'll get there."

"Do you know why he requested Special Victims?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Not my place to say," the officer said and moved to start walking again. "I've got to get back. About to ride with my new partner. He's got about 10 years on Zach – not as good, though." He looked at her again. "Give him a chance, detective. He'll surprise you. He surprised me."

She shook her head as he walked away. She didn't get much of anything out of him. Nothing she wanted.

The few inquiries she'd already made about the kid had been the same. Brady hadn't been around long enough – or done anything stupid enough - for anyone to know much of anything about him. But it didn't seem like he had any sort of hook in the system. Even his rabbi just seemed to be the captain at the Three-Three, who didn't have a huge amount of pull either.

It was like Brady just seemed to glide along. Maybe the FBI's interest in him explained some of it. His involvement in the Wellsley case – though exactly what he had contributed she hadn't yet been able to concretely pinpoint – likely added to the reasoning behind his bump. Still, the lack of something to stick right to him – to point to and say that was why he was with them – it made her uncomfortable. At that point, it didn't much matter to her if it was professional or personal or some great connection in the force. She really just wanted some understanding of how the kid had actually ended up in their squad and why he even wanted to be there. Young detectives usually wanted the undercover work of narcotics or the prestige of homicide. They didn't walk into the squad room at SVU and take up real estate.

"Hey Benson," she heard Yannowitz call from a bit further down the block and she looked back to him. "Bet you folks have a file somewhere over in your archives or storage. Koltech – '93. You should pull it."

He didn't give her a chance to ask more – or even respond, though, disappearing around the corner and back up the street to his station house.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: The New Guy**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law & Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Zach Brady has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: The powers-that-be at One Police Plaza decide to bump Manhattan SVU up to six and get everyone paired off. It means a new face appears in the squad room - and causes some major adjustments for everyone, as the detectives work to establish new relationships in their evolving unit.**

"Whatever you are eating stinks," Olivia spat across her desk at Brady. The deeply aromatic smell and the noise he was making while he was eating the meal was really starting to piss her off. He was disturbing her night-time space at the office – that she usually managed to get as a couple hours of quiet and alone time to do paperwork, if a case wasn't breaking.

He glanced up from his dinner. She wasn't even sure why he was still there – or what he was doing – besides stinking up the entire squad room with his food. They didn't have him working on anything that required his presence there after shift. But he was still sitting there – even though it was just her and Fin who were left in the squad at the moment. The night before she'd even left the station house before the kid had. What he was doing there at all hours of the night? She couldn't even begin to speculate.

"Sorry," he mumbled at her – but then put another forkful of the food into his mouth, apparently not much caring about her comment. Though, she wasn't sure what exactly she expected him to do about it at the moment anyways. Maybe note it and not ever bring that crap into the squad again. Or leave. That would be her ideal option.

"What the hell are you eating?" Fin inquired.

He glanced over that way now. "Ah … a shawarma plate."

"It smells nasty," Fin added.

Brady looked at him some more and then looked back at his food. "Really?"

"Really," Fin said sternly.

Brady shrugged. "Tastes good."

Olivia shook her head and rolled her eyes. The kid was weird. Nearly two weeks of being stuck with him and she didn't feel like she had anywhere near the kind of read she wanted on him yet. But it sounded like Cragen would be matching him up with Nick next week – so it'd be his turn to deal with the eccentricities. Though, she thought she'd still chip away at figuring out where exactly this kid had fallen from.

A young uniformed officer came into the squad and looked around – spotting her.

"Detective Benson?" he asked. "You're still here?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"I was just going to leave this in your mailbox," he said but then handed her a thick envelope. "We got that case file pulled out of the archives for you. Are you going to want everything from the investigation pulled from storage?"

"Ah," she said and opened a drawer on her desk and shoved the envelope inside, shutting it quickly. She saw Brady watching her. She almost wished she'd been gone and that the uni had just left the envelope in her mailbox. The young detective sitting there at the moment wasn't going to make her background check on him as transparent as she wanted. "I don't know yet. I'll let you know after I look over the file."

The officer nodded and made his way back to the door.

She turned back to her work. But she could feel Brady still examining her – almost like he knew what had just been handed to her. She didn't even know what had been handed to her yet.

She didn't know anything about the case beyond the citation in the computer system. The database from the 90s was kind of dated and how the information had transferred to their upgraded system in 2010 was kind of incomplete. Corrections were being made manually as the archivists and technicians worked through one-by-one, more on a case-by-case basis.

All that had shown next to the Koltech case in the archive database was that it was a homicide. Though, there'd been an ellipsis, indicating that there had previously been more information and other charges listed in that field that weren't presently visible on the system. So that was all she knew at the moment – that it was a homicide, she assumed with a sexual component to it, since it was a SVU file. But she didn't really know yet – and she wouldn't until she got to look at the file.

She still had no idea what Yannowitz had directed her to it yet either. However, with how Brady was looking at her – and the source of her information being his former partner – she wasn't about to start browsing through it at the moment.

"You get something on a cold case?" Brady had asked after watching her for a few moments.

She glanced up at him and shook her head. "No," she said flatly.

"What'd you have pulled from storage?" he asked.

She looked up at him again. "Just a case file I want to look over."

"Oh yeah?" Zach said. "What case?"

"It's from a long time ago," she said sternly. "It's not pertinent to anything you're working on."

He looked at her some more. "Is it pertinent to anything you're working on?" he spat back just as harshly.

Her eyes snapped at him at that. "You better watch the tone you use with me, kid."

"Detective," he said.

"What?" Olivia glared at him.

"Don't call me a fucking kid," he said. "You want to call me Brady or Zach or any of your stupid nicknames – fine. But don't call me kid. I'm a detective here too."

"Hey," Fin barked from across from them – but Olivia didn't look. She kept a firm glare on the young man sitting across from her. It was a stare down and she wasn't about to be the first to break the eye contact.

"Why don't we call calm down?" Fin ordered.

Brady stood up though and slammed what was left of his dinner into the trash can closest to her desk – and then grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and made for the door.

"Enjoy that case file," he called at her. "It's going to be some great bedtime reading."

She watched him leave. She could hear him galloping down the steps – clearly not wanting to wait for the elevator and determined to get out of there as quickly as possible.

"What's got his panties in a knot?" Fin asked her.

She shrugged. "Don't know," she said. "Rookies …"

She really didn't know. But based on his reaction, she definitely got the impression that Brady thought he knew what was in the file she'd just been handed – and it made her want to pull it out and look at it that much more.

What could piss the kid off that much? She hadn't seen much in the way of anger in the kid yet. He'd actually been almost too calm and even tempered most of the time – even when they'd been throwing some shit his way to see if they could get him riled, just to see how he'd deal with it. Clearly her having whatever information was in that envelope, though pissed him off. And it was something that his former partner thought she should look at?

She wanted to pull it out of her desk right then and start reading through it – determining how it was connected to the kid. But not in front of Fin. She stood from her desk and started to gather her things – taking the envelope out of her drawer and shoving it into her purse. Fin glanced up at her.

"I'm going to call it a night too," she said, "before the leftovers really stink up the place."

Fin snorted. "Yeah, no kidding. Night, Liv."

He hadn't seemed to much notice – or care – about the uni bringing her the folder. She thought that was a good thing for the moment – at least until she saw what was inside.


End file.
